3 bar menu

Golden Butterfly – Part 05

Upon His Majesty’s return to the conference room, officials from the Academy of Science hurried to King Rupert and separated him from members of the Ministry of the Occult.

The wall clock continued its measured advance. The designated hour for the radio broadcast loomed closer.

Jupiter Roget handed over a draft to King Rupert. Nodding weakly, he stumbled towards the adjacent room, holding two manuscripts in his hand.

“Please consider our speech,” Roget whispered in the king’s ear. “Let us fight using science. It’s the only path to victory left to us.”

“I understand. I will not be swayed by their witchcraft.”

“I’m glad to hear that. We have faith in you, Your Majesty.”

King Rupert stepped into the room and approached the broadcast equipment.

“Your Majesty, the broadcast is about to begin,” Roget said with a smile of relief.

“Okay.”

“We’ve received information that Germany has invaded England. In such dire times, we must turn to science for… Your Majesty? Um, Your Majesty?”

King Rupert’s face turned pale as a sheet.

“Your Majesty…” Sensing something wrong, Roget attempted to speak to the king, when a radio station staff announced the start of the broadcast.

The microphone crackled to life. With a deathly pallor, King Rupert studied the two drafts in his hands.

Across the Kingdom of Sauville, almost everyone had gathered around their radios this afternoon.

Upon learning of a broadcast from the king himself, everyone anticipated the kingdom’s participation in the war. Citizens shuddered. Those at home huddled in their living rooms around the radio, offering hugs, pats on the back, and comforting gestures to alleviate each other’s anxieties as they sat on the couch. Even within office spaces, work halted as employees gathered around the radio, closing their eyes and leaning against walls with arms crossed. Out on the streets, people assembled near stores broadcasting the radio transmission, holding their breath as they waited for that moment.

Each individual understood that the colossal ship that was the kingdom was sailing relentlessly into a fierce storm. Yet despite their knowledge, they were powerless to alter the course of events. Given the monumental scale of what had been set into motion, their ability to influence outcomes was minimal. They could only brace themselves for the impending ordeal. On this day, the people of Sauville held hands, exchanged glances, wiped away tears.

Crackle… Bzzt!

Following an ominous noise, the voice of King Rupert de Gilet reverberated throughout the realm.

“Today, I have a message for our citizens. The Kingdom of Sauville stands on the brink of a national crisis, and we must rise to face the challenge. We must take pride in being Europeans, bearers of ancient power. To wage a battle true to our identity, sacrifices will be inevitable… But…!”

A throng of citizens had converged in the palace square. Giant balloons floated above, casting their gaze upon the gathering.

Under the vigilant protection of the Royal Knights, King Rupert de Gilet emerged on the palace’s grand balcony. The crowd greeted their king with enthusiastic cheers. The Queen Mother, King Rupert’s sister and her children, his brother and his elegant wife, as well as his sisters, all stood in formal attire, waving their hands in unison, inciting the cheers to swell even louder.

Within the conference room, unseen from the balcony, the struggle for control among the officials raged on.

On this day, the Ministry of the Occult emerged victorious. Marquis de Blois’s deep laughter hung in the air.

The jubilant cheers persisted, rippling through the square like waves.

And so, the monumental vessel finally plunged into the heart of the storm.

---

Time passed, and spring was giving way to summer.

War wreaked havoc across the globe.

One morning in England…

A grand four-story building stood at a street corner on the outskirts of London. Though older than the neighboring buildings, it was a solid structure. Ornate outdoor lamps resembling water buffalos and black doorknobs shaped like fully bloomed sunflowers added to the building’s vintage charm.

Mounted police officers slowly passed along the road in front of the building, and at each intersection, other officers stood guard, maintaining a vigilant watch over the surroundings.

With the onset of the war, Britain promptly announced its participation, far ahead of the initially cautious Kingdom of Sauville.

The cityscape of the capital, London, appeared deceptively serene. Yet upon closer inspection, the tight security and the hushed stillness that made the houses seem deserted were clear signs of a departure from normalcy.

The four-story building apparently belonged to the Bradley family. This was evident from the lettering on the front nameplate and the slightly tilted red mailbox sticking into the ground, which bore the message “Adventurer Bradley’s Home This Way!” written in charming, childlike handwriting.

Suddenly, the fourth-floor window flung open, and the face of a girl with short blonde hair popped out.

“Good morning! Morning has come!”

A milk delivery boy on a bicycle raised a hand as he passed by the building. “Morning, lovely lady!”

“Nice morning, huh?”

“Absolutely!”

“Have a good one!”

“You too!”

“So noisy early in the morning,” an irritated voice came from behind the girl. A large pillow flew through the air and hit her on the back of the head.

Avril Bradley whirled around. “Wake up already, you sleepyhead!” she snapped back, hands on her hips.

“The war is here, and you insist on waking up early every day, opening the window, and singing like an idiot. You’re such a weirdo.”

In a fourth-floor of the building was a bedroom with a simple setup: a large, unadorned bed and two dressers equipped with mirrors and drawers. A closet and an old ladder leading to the attic completed the space.

Frannie, a girl with curly blonde hair who was two years older than her cousin Avril, sat grumpily on the bed with crossed legs. Her white muslin nightwear was crumpled, and her face, similar to Avril’s in appearance, wore a similar frown.

“If you don’t get up soon, you’re gonna get it from Grandma,” Avril said with a laugh. She had already changed to a polka-dot blouse, a simple balloon skirt, and flat shoes. “It’s time for breakfast. As soon as we’re done eating, the tutor’s coming over right away.”

“Ugh, seriously, I’m just fed up with everything! Waking up early, the morning tutor, the afternoon shifts at the munitions factory. And don’t even get me started on your stupid cheerful voice!”

“Can I have your bread, then?”

“…”

Frannie furrowed her brows. She got out of bed reluctantly and changed her clothes. Avril then pulled her out of the bedroom, making their way downstairs.

Adventurer Bradley’s house on the outskirts of London was originally constructed by Avril’s great-grandfather during her grandmother’s youth. Her great-grandfather, an entrepreneur, repurposed the first floor into a storehouse, the second for an office, and the third and fourth floors as the family’s living space. Over time, the ground floor facing the street transformed into an office and a memorial hall for Adventurer Sir Bradley, accessible to the public. Her grandmother’s room and the living room occupied the second floor, while Avril’s parents resided on the third floor. They were currently away from London due to work.

As they arrived at the living room on the second floor, Avril found her grandmother already up, engrossed in embroidery with her glasses on.

Upon noticing her two grandchildren, she shot them a glance. “Avril, I could hear your peculiar singing all the way down here. Frannie, fix your bed hair.”

“I see!”

“Hmph!”

Avril just nodded, while Frannie turned her face away. Letting out a sigh, their grandmother turned her attention back to her embroidery.

After breakfast, their recently hired home tutor arrived—a war veteran wounded in the previous Great War and unable to join the current war effort. He had stayed behind in London. Avril approached the limping teacher and took their bag.

In the living room, under their grandmother’s watchful gaze, they took lessons in Latin and mathematics. Frannie appeared drowsy, repeatedly nodding off. Avril nudged her awake each time.

As Avril translated Latin passages into English and consulted dictionaries, memories of the fun classes until the previous winter gradually resurfaced.

Saint Marguerite Academy…

She had studied abroad in the spring and stayed until just before the start of winter break, so in the end, she hadn’t been there for a whole year.

The vast and beautiful French-style garden, library tower, school building. Portraits of individuals in old-fashioned French hairstyles and attire lining the hallways covered in red carpets. Dazzling frescoes on the round ceilings.

Meeting children of nobility in the classrooms and girls’ dormitory, who were so different from British children. It felt like being amidst haughty and mischievous fairies, studying in the classrooms, sharing meals in the dining hall, and chatting away in the dormitory.

The strangest encounter she had was with a small boy with jet-black hair and eyes from a small island nation in the Far East. Soon after her arrival in Sauville, she was kidnapped by Ciaran the Second, a master thief, and locked inside a warehouse. This young boy came to Avril’s rescue and even helped recover her inheritance, the Penny Black, which had been stolen by Ciaran.

Avril remembered the daring move she had made during the first day of winter vacation, and she found herself blushing bright red.

Frannie observed Avril’s face with a curious expression, holding a pen under her nose.

“I wonder how he’s doing,” Avril mumbled.

Then, through the encounter with Kazuya Kujou, she came to know that peculiar girl—astoundingly beautiful, enigmatic, clever, yet mean. Despite that, she was shy, sensitive, and a crybaby who couldn’t be left alone due to her clumsiness. The thought of Victorique de Blois made her heave a deep sigh.

“What’s with the faces, you weirdo?” Frannie joked.

“What?” Avril snapped back to reality.

Time had slipped away unnoticed. Avril’s notebook remained blank, while Frannie’s was gradually filling with accurate Latin translations, earning her approving checkmarks from the tutor. Even their grandmother, pausing from her embroidery, nodded in approval at Frannie.

Frannie gave Avril a smug look. “Hehe!”

Frustrated, Avril began flipping through the dictionary at incredible speed.

The weather outside was lovely, with a pleasant early summer breeze blowing through the open windows. Summer was approaching the muggy city of London. It was so quiet that you wouldn’t think a war had been ongoing for several months now. While conflict raged in other parts of Europe and England, the city seemed peaceful and untouched by the turmoil.

Avril immersed herself in her studies, diligently poring over the dictionary.

I need to impress Grandma. Gotta show her that I’m smart and brave just like Sir Bradley. Okay… Ugh. Latin is really tough…

A gentle breeze blew.